


House With No Mirrors

by lance_space_mommy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Caring Yamaguchi Tadashi, Depressed Hinata Shouyou, FTM Hinata Shouyou, Hurt Hinata Shouyou, Kageyama Tobio is Bad at Feelings, Minor Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Protective Sugawara Koushi, Team Mom Sugawara Koushi, Trans Hinata Shouyou, Tsukishima Kei Being an Asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28727463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lance_space_mommy/pseuds/lance_space_mommy
Summary: Hinata allows himself to reflect on his past. Living with who he was in the present.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Kudos: 47





	House With No Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

> This is a vent post, most memories are ones of my own. I've been in a weird spot and I'm reflecting on what I've done, who I became and what I am now. I wanted to release this through my comfort character.
> 
> The song used in this is House With No Mirrors - Sasha Sloan

It was strange. Nothing had been going wrong. Volleyball practices went by and improvements were made, skills were being built along with relationships. School was just like every other day, nothing really changing. The same bells flooding the corridors and stairwells periodically throughout the day.

So why do I feel so empty?

I come home and toss my backpack at the base of my desk before leaping into the bundle of sheets on my bed. The familiar scent that I created in the pile was so familiar and comforting, something I can’t place my finger on but always brings me back down to earth.

Memories came in waves, special little moments that had disappeared for years. I don’t know why they decided to suddenly reappear now. The memories were more like faint daydreams.

Washing the dishes I looked at the tiny soap bubbles in my hand, the sound of the door creaking triggered a memory. A silly memory out of all of them. I was singing, walking around my house without a care in the world, not knowing my mother was listening with a relaxed smile. It was mid-fall, the crunch of the leaves underneath my feet as I passed the tree that once stood tall drowned out my singing. I don’t even remember what I was singing at that moment. I wore a jacket way too long for me, and the jeans were snug around my thin chicken legs, my converse were so old and the soles had holes in them. I didn’t want to buy a new pair, the old worn-down look just felt cool.

I remember the frozen wind of the fall, the simplicity of the world. Yet I was only remembering these things. I was standing in a kitchen, messing with some dishes as my little sister was rambling about her friend.

In reality, I was actually in my bed, surrounded by blankets I haven’t washed in months. I just had gotten home from a boring day at school, surrounded by the same people with a lack of difference, everything always the same.

Things weren’t always like this, once upon a time. I was nothing like I am now. I had long hair, down past my behind. I chopped it all off in first grade, up to my chin in excitement to not look girly. I’d wear shorts and t-shirts with basic designs because of an incredible hatred for dresses. Skirts were iffy, my dad told me I had to wear skirts if I didn’t wear dresses. So I did just that.

Once he left, I just became who I wanted. When I became who I wanted on the outside, I didn’t know who I was on the inside, and that led me to my demise for a while. In junior high, I did shady things. Even if I did Volleyball in most of my free time there was still plenty of hours left in the day.  
  
  


* * *

Another practice, the morning dew resting on the deep green grass caught the light of the rising sun, illuminating the field. The gym doors were closed as the faint commotion of my teammates crept out into the silent morning. The chilled breeze lulled me to sit down on the steps, almost giving me a light nudge to do so. The forever cherished sunrise was put on display right before my eyes.

The eyelids once wide open with curiosity were now closed, feeling the air blow my bangs back, the rosiness on my cheeks and button nose. I sighed, basking in this moment. A memory that will disappear for years before greeting me in my twenties.

The taunting noise of a guitar caught me off guard, a comforting tune that felt like a lost memory. A familiar voice echoed around me like a ghost, yet I was only looking over the face myself.

A skinny girl, frail arms and legs with the desired hourglass body. Short orange hair pulled into a loose pigtail due to the short length. A skirt just long enough to cover the undergarments even as the wind blew. The plain white button-up blouse, a single stain on the elbow from crashing a bike. Such a sad, timid, and insecure expression as I, my past self stood there.

Singing, there shined the voice I had once sung in, “I'd be cooler.”

All I could do was sing along as if I had always known this unfamiliar melody, “I'd be smarter.”

Watching myself look up at the rising sunset, there was the pained smile, always acting as if nothing was possibly wrong, “Probably be a better daughter.”

The creaking of the doors remained unheard, even if time wasn’t frozen, it felt that way. I was stuck in that moment, almost like I was experiencing being in my own faded memory. Chuckling, I brought my attention back to the rising sun, absorbed at the moment with my breakable stare: “I'd jump in a pool without thinking twice."

The pigtailed ginger scooted over to me, slightly curious of the older version of themself, “Take off my shirt like one of the guys."

I naturally picked at my fingers, a force of habit. There’s so much I wished I did in the past, things I could’ve done to be better, to be more of use: “I would save a lot of money.”

The first tear fell, the drawn-out descend left me to see that familiar shine from the sunshine getting caught in the salty tear. Their lanky arms lightly wrapping their gut: “I would say when I was hungry”

I had to look away, plastering the forced smile I’d rather not wear. The feeling of speaking to the only person who knew me inside out and I knew inside-out was reassuring, I feel like I can let out the wishes I hold: “I'd throw on some jeans, not know the size."

Backing me up immediately the voice was lighthearted as the heavy truth behind the memory remained crushing, “Walk out the door and not wanna cry~.”

I remained silent, there wasn’t much to say. I didn’t know what to say, there was such an uncomfortable and unnatural comfort in the presence of my past self. I get to see that side of me I’ll never be again.

“If I lived in a house with no mirrors. Where the walls didn't talk back at me.”

I finally felt my eyes flick back over to me, the smile gone, replaced by a blank expression, the facade now a revealing manner. Words coming together to compliment the singing I had just heard: “Maybe I'd dream a bit bigger. If there was nothin' to see.”

We exchanged eye contact, looking at who we were and who we’ll become. Letting the sense of realism and familiarity remind us of the battle-wounds we possess: “If I lived in a house with no mirrors”

“Where the walls didn't pick me apart… maybe my skin would be thicker. If I lived in a house with no mirrors,” I almost cursed at myself from the crack in my voice, losing the composure I didn’t know I had been forcing myself to hold all this time.

“I'd be louder”

I corrected the statement of myself, being loud is what I’m known for it’s what I need to change with my loudness that’s important, “I'd be honest… probably wouldn't be self-conscious”

The feeling of fluffy hair and a slight weight caught me off guard, not even bothering, I reached an arm up to wrap it around them, patting the shoulder gently as I listened to them sing: “I'd go to a party, not care who was there”

Mockingly singing, I never had been one to care about people's opinion about my appearance other than my father, “Not spend an hour pickin' what to wear.”

Gently taking out the hair tie, the thick curly hair bloomed, the light yellow ends now easier for me to see, I now had an idea of how old this version of me is: “Would've never dyed my hair blonde.”

“I'd have sex with all the lights on,” I couldn’t help but flinch at my own singing.

As much as I hated to admit it, I’ve never felt confident in my body, even though I knew my worth and that my height really didn’t make me any less of a person, I hated my chest, my wide hips, and my prominent butt. I believed being sexually active would help me loosen up, find the beauty in my body and others. Yet I only grew more hollow, I ended up under the sheets or feeling loveless pleasure in a pitch-black room.

The instant I felt the head resting on my shoulder rise, I knew they knew. I know they’ve already had their fair share of empty one night stands, “And I wouldn't pull away from his touch. If he said I was pretty I'd think that I was.”

Picking up from memory, I sang out, guiding my younger self to follow after me bravely. A soldier marching on with a battle wound: “If I lived in a house with no mirrors. Where the walls didn't talk back at me.”

“Maybe I'd dream a bit bigger if there was nothin' to see,” the small, higher-pitched voice mimicked the already sung lines.

“If I lived in a house with no mirrors…”

Staring off at the now risen sun I let the bright beams warm my cold face, the feeling of a runny nose forming. I listened to the singing, internalizing it like a song you’d just want to play on repeat.

“Where the walls didn't pick me apart… maybe my skin would be thicker.”

“If I lived in a house with no mirrors”

There was an awkward but comfortable silence between us, the sound of the hushed guitar continued on. I finally let out a shaky breath as I cupped my own face. The face that belonged to the fragile person who was forced to believe they were broken for not being what their body was. I noticed the steady stream of tears fall as a genuine smile crept on the younger's face as they sank into my gentle touch. A small laugh escaping as they saw that I became the best version of myself.

Glancing over as the sound of shifting, there I was, sitting on my legs, my youthful face haunting me, “I wonder what I'd be like.”

Fixing myself, I positioned myself to sit right before myself, shrugging slightly, “Maybe I'd sleep a little better at night”

“Yeah, I wonder what I'd be like”

“If I”

In sync we sang, allowing the words, the shared memories, everything to link together, to remember and push forward. Not caring if he had our broken parts. How could we ever be broken if we knew what makes us whole?

“If I lived in a house with no mirrors. Where the walls didn't talk back at me. Maybe I'd dream a bit bigger… if there was nothin' to see. If I lived in a house with no mirrors… where the walls didn't pick me apart. Maybe my skin would be thicker. If I lived in a house with no mirrors.

Reaching a hand up I blinked at the sight of my own dedicated face, my eyes were wild. A storm brunt sienna embers: “I wonder what I'd be like.”

Reaching my own hand up I smiled, pressing my small hand against the even smaller hand, two completely different people, but two completely different people who share the same being. 

“Yeah, I wonder what I'd be like.”

“...”

A peaceful silence followed the words that fell off my tongue, fading out into the bright, cold day. Standing to watch the leaves slowly spiral to the ground as a gust of wind shaking the brittle branches I found myself smiling.

“Hey, me.”

“Hmm?”

“I know you’re thinking right now. You’ll make mistakes and regret a lot of things but you change. Just, enjoy it. Nothing will ever be the same again.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. But that’s okay. It’s necessary, I don’t regret leaving the past behind. It’s healthy that way.”

“I'm happy to see that in the future. I’m strong enough to live life even if I’m struggling.”

“You’ll always struggle, but I love you! You’re a piece of me, you are me! I think that we are pretty great!”

The wind picked up, some leaves made their way onto the concrete sidewalk. The bundle of bright orange hair shoved into my shirt as the warmth of a hug left me caught off guard. I felt loved, by my own self for once. I knew from what I had said, they felt loved too. Picking myself up I laughed, spinning the quiet, lost child around in a fit of excitement. This is me, I am them, they are me, and we are each other.

All those nights we snuck onto the roof to feel the sense of rebellion. The warm summer sunset delivered an unnatural warmth that never failed to soothe my nerves that built up over the horrible day. The time I snuck a cigarette from my grandmother's pack when she was busy dumping scraps out. I had taken it to my room and lit it, I left my window open for the smoke to escape. I never finished it, I was too scared my mom would find out.

I’ve also been daydreaming, memories did make up the majority of my thoughts but something about these were exciting.

The feeling of long, warm fingers caressing my cold cheek. The soft sensation of a chaste kiss pressed to my lips. I wanted to be taken in the arms of another and be taken care of. The embrace of a tight, loving hug being provided by secure built arms. A comfortable silence that provided the intimacy I desired.

I could care less about my sex life. I’ve always thought about sex and what it would be like, yet I just wanted a sincere relationship. Genuine loving before making it. Endless conversations and lighthearted bantering were all I ever wanted. I just wished for that love, that second in time, the feeling of “heaven” just through a minute of held eye contact.

As I felt the ghost of myself disappear into the crisp morning, a sigh followed. The familiar brightness hitting my face, consoling every possible insecurity I possess.

“Hey, Hinata~!”

I turned around to Suga, he seemed tired but giddy today. That was a good sign that I’m not in trouble for definitely being late.

“Oh— hi Suga-san!”

Rather than motioning me to come inside, he stepped towards me. The horrid noise from the frozen metal doors brought most of the team's attention on the inside from what I could see. Just like that the door was closed and I was standing outside enjoying the blue morning with my upperclassmen.

“Enjoying the bright morning? Surprised it is this cold even with the sun out.”

“Yeah, I like it though. The sun makes my face all warm while my body stays cool!”

“You got a point… I heard some commotion out here. Your singing was good.”

“Huh— you heard that!? Oh, well thank you… I’m glad you liked it.”

A new warmth flooded me, the secure arms of a friend. Someone who would do anything to protect me and shelter me from harm's way. Somewhat reminding me of a chaotic mom friend. Scratch that, just a crazy mom.

“I think you’re pretty great. You show incredible potential through your dedication. Your height doesn’t determine your worth or your success. We all find our own things that we can surpass in, and no one here cares if you're not the smartest. We just want you to succeed in the end.”

Their weight flooded my chest as my breathing shallowed. I could feel my head subconsciously tilt upwards to hold back my tears. They came out with my mix of laughter and sobs. Rather than pulling away or making a comment on it, Suga just squeezed me tighter in a protective manner.

I could feel unspoken stories, memories, terrors, pieces of me finally bubble to the surface as everything I had strategically stacked up collapsed. Suga was there to catch the scraps.

“I knew something was going on Hinata. No one can always be happy, there’s a reason we were given the ability to cry, to scream, to fight. You can’t lock away your inconveniences and struggles and expect to not shatter.”

“Things are changing Suga— I've lost everything! I have made a fool of myself with nothing to offer. I suck at school. I suck at volleyball. Why can I never seem to do anything right!”

“Is it what the others say? If it is I can tell you they just—“

“It’s not them. I’ve never given a damn about any of their opinions. They have no room to talk about me being dumb or annoying when their complaining and constant bullying is fucking annoying!”

Suga blinked a couple of times at that but shrugged, “Language… but point made. Yet— I’m confused. Why do you say those things about yourself?”

“I don’t really know. I’ve never thought highly of myself. My father was abusive and I took care of Natsu a lot growing up. My mother was around but not nearly as much as she would be if my dad was around.”

Suga motioned for me to sit down, I complied hesitantly. Nonetheless, I sat down with Suga and quickly sat beside me.

“I found comfort in bad places with bad people who possessed bad substances. Vices in other words... I think.”

“Mhmm, vices is the right word.”

“After spending months living in a world of utter chaos, I crashed. Every second of every day I spent in my bed other than the times I made Natsu food or did something for her. It just got worse. Then I came here.”

“So?”

“I’m just now realizing. Even though every day feels like the same taunting routine… nothing will ever be the same again, my life is set in stone and everything I did will never exist again.”

I felt so disconnected. As if Suga was a figment of my imagination. It was like I wasn’t currently sitting on the freezing cold steps leading to the gym where he practiced every day. The thin layer of sweat that coated to court from dives and sprawling. The smell of volleyball leather and overpowering deodorant.

“Hinata?”

Tsukishima was standing in the doorway, not even trying to be subtle as he spoke aggressively.

“What the hell is going on with you?”

Daichi came over at the sight of Tsukishima bothering to ask Hinata what’s going on, “Is everything okay?”

Suga asked me, rubbing my arm, “Are you okay?”

It was as if I couldn’t process the words, I was paralyzed in my one disassociation. Nothing mattered but nothingness I was imprisoned by. Conversations seem so empty. Why try and fight myself to pay attention?

Kageyama even pitched in, his usual grumpy tone was significantly softer, the volume to it was solely his concern… it caught me off guard.

“You okay?”

The gentle scent of butterscotch and the harsh scent of hair gel let me know Noya was approaching me. He would offer me the power to break out of the trance I couldn’t even bring myself to truly realize I was in.

“Sho—."

That simple name call was enough for me. My name, his voice. The people, their clothes, scent, eyes, their hair. It was all different, this wasn’t a memory or a daydream based on one. I exist, this is happening.

“Hmm?”

Daichi approached me, kneeling down before resting a hand on my shoulder. I could see the look in his eyes as he held the gaze of a collected but worried father.

“I said are you alright?”

I felt guilty, I was the reason we weren’t practicing right now. I am the reason my entire team's standing outside in the cold, crowding me. If I had just kept up my facade till I reached the bathroom, none of this would’ve happened. It’s one thing for me to be lost in my own head but it’s when I drag others down with me.

“I just…”

_ Don’t say a word. You’re fine, you’ve always been fine. No one would understand and even if they did no one would care enough to help you. The moment you come around they try and tell you that you’re annoying and that you suck at everything you do. Even if their words don’t affect you… they still said it. _

“I’m fine… I’m fine!”

The team all stared at me. I could tell they were caught off guard by the bright smile I plastered on my face. I could feel the pulling in my cheeks as my eyes burned. Rather than giving in, I squeezed my eyes shut to stop the burning and I threw myself up.

“I just zoned out! Let’s get to practice, it’s been a weird morning!”

Taking that for an answer Tsukishima, Daichi, and Tanaka headed back inside much to my joy. Suga didn’t buy it and Noya could see that. The two failed to realize I knew they could tell.

_ From experience, if I didn’t want to talk about my emotions, I wouldn’t talk about them. What made anyone think Hinata would want to talk about it if he hid it for so long? (Noya) _

Yamaguchi was different though, giving me a small nod he spoke softly to me. It was strange but not unpleasant, “Well if you ever do want to talk about your weird morning then I’m all ears Hinata.”

“Thanks, Yamaguchi. I’ll keep that in mind!”

Kageyama oddly took my hand, I couldn’t help but let a laugh slip out at the sight of his distress. He had taken my hand out of impulse and internal desire. That was charming and oddly adorable in a way.

“Boke. If you’re sad just say so, none of us care if you aren’t doing okay!”

“...what?”

Suga gasped, shunning Kageyama for his phrasing which I found absolutely amusing: “You said that so wrong— think before you speak! He means it’s okay for you to not be okay, none of us have a problem with you showing emotion and being sad. We want to be able to help you when you’re feeling down.”

I had to dismiss myself before I found myself distracted and off task. I had a boring but busy day ahead of me. I threw aside the bag I’ve had strung around my shoulder for what felt like the past 5 years. Pressing off of my left foot I pushed forward with a rush for new daydreams, new sensations, and conversations I’ll have.

_ If I live in a house with no mirrors to reflect, maybe I can finally move forward. _

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!  
> <3


End file.
